


Six degrees of misunderstanding

by liliumweiss



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Captain Swan Secret Santa 2019, Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21961627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliumweiss/pseuds/liliumweiss
Summary: Decorating the chalet for Christmas is one of the things Emma loves the most. When she’s paired up with Killian to preced the others, however, she has no idea how different things will be this year, especially because Killian can’t stand her at all even after years of knowing each other. ‘Tis the season to be jolly indeed.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 79





	Six degrees of misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wordsbymeganmichael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbymeganmichael/gifts).



> MERRY CHRISTMAS @thejollyroger-writer !!! It is I, your Secret Santa for this @cssecretsanta2k19! I hope you’re having a wonderful day with your family and I am super jealous of all the cookie making!
> 
> It’s been fun getting to know you better during this month-ish of exchanges and I’m so happy to finally share this story! I admit, I struggled a bit with it because I was facing a bit of a writer’s block, but I was so happy and determined to have it out by Christmas Day and here it is, the reindeers have landed safely! It’s quite silly and super iper cliché, but given that you seem to like cliché Christmas movies, I hope you’ll enjoy it!
> 
> Again, merry Christmas to you and your family and friends. All my love ♥
> 
> (And please forgive me for any mistake and the title because inventiveness left the house.)

Emma had to check the heating system to make sure it was on, otherwise she wouldn't had known the difference between the temperature inside the car and outside. Where it was snowing. And everything was already covered in white.

Riding up to the chalet with Killian Jones hadn’t been the greatest idea. Not that it had been _her_ decision, more like David had guilty-tripped her into going to the family chalet - yes, _yes_ , her family owned a chalet and a bunch of other properties - and at least they weren’t on the private jet to the chalet in Switzerland, but still. Not that about eight hours alone in the car with him were better. Perhaps the private jet would’ve been better. At least he’d had the decency to turn the radio on.

Biting back the umpteenth sigh as _Last Christmas_ made an appearance - _again_ \- Emma looked out of the window. She couldn’t wait to reach Sacramento to have a breather and then be in charge of the radio. And cocoa, she needed more hot cocoa. And the prospect of some apple cider donuts was simply divine.

Unlike the prospect of two more hours alone in a car with Killian Jones, of course.

Or tidying up the chalet before David and his new girlfriend arrived, which would be before Elsa and Anna and their relative spouses arrived. It was the perfect couples-on-vacation Lifetime thing, too bad she and Killian were not a couple. _Too bad? Nope, Emma, don’t go down that route. Not again_.

Truth was, Emma Nolan had a massive crush on Killian, but the man seemed to not care about her at all. Unless you thought hating on someone meant they _did_ care about you - or rather, the way you died.

She _definitely_ needed that hot chocolate.

They reached Sacramento a bit later than expected, but with the roads full of snow it was better to go slowly rather than dying trying to keep up with the schedule.

After a quick lunch that consisted in grilled cheese for Emma and cheeseburger for Killian, and after Emma had raided the desserts in the diner so she could eat in the car, they hit the road once again.

Driving the pick-up wasn’t as good as driving the Bug, but it was ten times safer. Besides, since it was _her_ car, she could eat without having to worry about crumbs.

«You want something?» she said around a mouthful of donut, arm extended to the side. Not feeling him reaching into the paper bag she was handing him, she shook it slightly, adding: «They don’t bite.»

Killian probably suffocated the huff bubbling up inside him but complied. Once he’d made his choice, he thanked her. To say that she was surprised would’ve been an understatement.

After that, they stayed silent. Well, Killian did, since Emma hummed along the melody of whichever song came on the radio, which was 90% Christmas tunes and the other 10% something that made her ears bleed.

Emma didn’t exactly adore Christmas, but she didn’t hate it either. It was a well balanced love. Besides, one could dislike the music as much as they wanted, but to dislike the food? Hell no.

Fortunately, on the last stretch to Lake Tahoe, the snow stopped to fall, but Emma knew from experience that it didn’t mean the roads to the chalet were in good condition or that it wouldn’t start to snow again.

Grumbling under her breath, Emma reached into the bag to pull out whatever pastry she’d left only to discover it was the last one. Heat rose to her cheeks. Although she did have a sweet tooth, one thing was to be teased about it, another was to wolf down several pastries in front of the guy you had a crush on and who would inevitably judge you.

Clearing her voice, she asked: «Last chance to eat before we reach the chalet.»

A quick glance in Killian’s direction told her he’d cocked an eyebrow. Then, he shook his head. «Nay, Nolan, I’m good.»

This time, it was Emma who arched her eyebrows. «Aren’t you a gentleman,» she muttered, wanting to slap herself as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

«I’m _always_ a gentleman, love.»

It took Emma all sanity she’d left not to hit the brakes and stare absolutely dumbfounded at Killian. He’d cracked a joke. In front of her. _And he’d called her_ love! Surely, it was a mistake.

Nevertheless, that didn’t stop her from eating the last bear claw. Or from smiling slightly all the way to the chalet.

-/-

They reached their destination almost forty-five minutes after the estimate time of arrival, meaning her brain was going two hundred miles per hour in the attempt of having everything done before David arrived. Not only she had to decorate the main rooms of the chalet, but she had had the crazies idea of baking, mostly to show off to her brother’s girlfriend.

 _Mary Margaret_ , Emma tried to remind herself, biting back a huff. Of course, never having met her, she had no reason to hate or even just despise the woman, but she had at least to give her a hard time, like sisters did. _And I get to be the overprotective sister, this time_.

Grinning smugly to herself, she hopped off the car. «So, Jones, ready to live the experience of a lifetime?»

His low chuckle startled her, and not in a bad way. In fact, her insides warmed at the sound.

«Does that usually work for you?»

Emma arched her eyebrow. «Judgmental much, Jones?» she snapped with a tight smile, not wanting him to talk to her as if she was the worst woman in the entire world. Definitely not something new for her, but an insult nonetheless. Especially since he’d been known to have his fair of one-night-stands as well.

He shrugged. «Merely curious,» he grumbled, unloading the food supplies.

Emma narrowed her eyes, wondering what else was going on in his mind. However, she knew that pushing wouldn’t take her anywhere, not with Jones. _So much alike_ , she thought to herself as she took a few bags herself before hurrying to unlock the front door.

Thanks to the housekeeper’s visit, everything smelled fresh, like pine and rosemary and, if possible, _cold_. It probably was not possible to put a sensation into words or for a smell to be described as such. Soon, however, soon there’d be the scent of cinnamon and spices. Emma hummed in delight, almost wanting to ditch the decorations on to Killian and just start baking. Now, that was a clever idea.

«Alright, do you want to unpack? Take a shower? A nap?» she called out as she made her way to the kitchen. At least they didn’t need to bring the decorations as well, since those were already up in the attic and a tree had been delivered to the house. That particular, the fact that none had gone to a tree farm to pick it, bothered Emma, but at least they had one to decorate.

Upon seeing it in the family room, a bittersweet feeling seeped through her heart, making her remember how Christmases were when there was a family of five instead of of four.

«Nolan?»

Emma whirled around at the sound of Killian’s voice, and what she found in his baby blues surprised her. He truly was concerned.

Wearing the best smile she could muster, she nodded. «Everything’s fine.» Technically, it wasn’t a lie, yet nothing was alright either. All Emma needed was her mind full and with no chance to think about what would never come back to her. «So, have you decided what you want to do first?»

After a moment in which he kept searching her eyes, Killian nodded. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he was fighting a smile - or, knowing him, a smirk, one she definitely did _not_ want to kiss off his face. «Let me take a shower and then I’ll be ready for you to order me around.»

Eyes widening, Emma sucked in a breath at Killian’s blunt words. She didn’t recall him ever being so… _flirty_ , not since when they’d first worked on a project together for one of their classes. «W-well, if that’s what you’d like-» She had to bit her tongue to keep herself from stuttering and vomit words she did not mean and that would make the situation even more embarrassing.

«Yeah, uhm, same room?» Killian asked, the tip of his ears as red and bright as lit-up Christmas lights. He was scratching that spot behind his neck, and something told Emma his nails were about to bite into the skin.

All she could do was nod, not waiting for him to make his way upstairs before turning around to focus on the decorations.

The sound of his boots hitting the hardwood floor followed behind him, and once that, too, disappeared, Emma hung her head.

 _I’m_ so _fucked_.

She almost yelled at the voice that told her she _definitely was_ not.

-/-

_Much better_.

Emma’s smile was so wide her cheeks hurt as she lit up the last candle. Soon, the air would smell like citruses and different types of wood without being suffocating. In fact, she found it relaxing.

Unlike Killian, of course, who was grumbling under his breath as he tried to work out the lights.

Looking over her shoulder, Emma stifled a laugh. It was embarrassing, and if she’d been a bit closer to him than she was, she might have even snapped a photo or two. The actual sight of him struggling with something so simple when he was a machine when it came to numbers was ironic and, well, dare she say, _cute_.

«You need a hand with that?» she asked, forcing herself to swallow the laugh that threatened to bubble up her throat as he spun around and around, dragging the string of lights with him. It was like looking at a Disney princess looking down at the new gown the good sidekick had magically produced for her.

It was this fleeting thought that had her lose her battle, sending her down a spiral of giggles and tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. At one point, her legs couldn’t even hold her up anymore, making her collapse on one of the couches.

Despite the laughter, Emma was aware of his eyes on her, but she couldn’t stop not even if she wanted to. It went on indefinitely, for seconds, minutes, though definitely not hours, but she couldn’t care less. It was liberating, all the stress leaving her boneless eagle-spread on the couch, her stomach hurting in a good way.

«I-» she tried to say between laboured breaths, fingers wiping away the tears. «I’m sorry.»

Not hearing a reply or even just a sound of acknowledgement, Emma dared look at him. Her breath caught in her throat - again.

Confusion had Killian frowning, his eyes clearly laughing behind a curtain of reprimand. How strange, he seemed to want to laugh at her, instead, it was as if he was seeing her for the first time.

 _Which we know is not true since he’s known you for years, works with you_ and _has seen you in a bikini_.

Averting her gaze at the memory, Emma sighed deeply. _Back to square one_. It didn’t matter how much she tried, Killian never seemed to want to even breathe the same air as she, how could she even think it all could change in less than twenty-four hours? Clearly, there was something more there, some other reason why he kept shutting her out, not even giving her the smallest smile. Approval for a job well done? Totally, but that was always out of politeness, never because he believed in her.

Tightening her lips in a thin line, she lifted herself from the couch and went to him, taking the bundle of lights and helping him out of that mess. After all the times Granny had asked her to undo the messy balls of wool, Emma could consider herself an expert on how to deal with knotted strings.

She worked silently, noticing how he tensed whenever she inched a tad too close. In all honesty, Emma wanted to scream, to yell at him questions about why he kept treating her like that, but alas, she was a bit of a coward. That is, if you could consider willingly walking on that thin ice cowardice.

«Here,» she muttered, her eyes lowered on her hands. She thrust the lights in Killian’s hands, before tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears. «Have you finished with the ornaments?»

Not waiting for a response, she peered inside a box and saw some balls still scattered around the bottom. She picked up some, keeping them close to her chest, and proceeded to circle the tree, trying to find the perfect spot for each one.

Her trained eye saw immediately how organized the ornaments were, all neatly arranged to create the perfect view, making the tree looking like one of those in those cheesy movies. Truthfully, Emma wouldn’t have expected less given how meticulous he always was when it came to his works.

«There,» she said, smiling widely at how the tree still maintained its beauty even with the few adjustments she’d made.

Only one ornament was left, the one she treasured the most and kept in its old box. It was hers, a swan made of crystal James had gifted her on Christmas when she was eighteen with the first pay check from his first actual job. Despite his bad boy act, James hadn’t been a bad man, and she missed him so much.

«Why a swan?»

The question came suddenly from behind her, a bit too closer than she’d expected. It wasn’t Killian’s proximity that startled her, it was the actual curiosity in his voice, because he wanted to learn more about her.

Memories flooded her, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. «It’s silly and sweet at the same time, really. When we were little, James kept referring to me as “duckling”, it was his pet name for his little sister.» Emma turned around, facing a very interested Killian. For a moment, every thought left her mind; the eagerness in his blue eyes surprising her. It had been years since she’d last seen him looking at her as if she was a normal person and not a hydra. «He never stopped calling me that, not even after he gifted this ornament to me, but in the note he’d quoted the _Swan Princess_ ’ song, claiming I’d become a swan.» She looked down at the swan cradled in her hands. «It was the last Christmas we spent together.»

Killian nodded slowly, eyes trained on the ornament as well. «I’m sorry,» he murmured, and Emma knew he meant both for her brother and inquiring about her past. At least he wasn’t regretting his question because it brought them a bit closer.

Emma knew about Killian’s mother’s death, how she’d been all he’d had aside from Liam, who had to step into the adult shoes too soon. Both she and Killian had known loss, _felt_ lost still at times, but they had to put up a brave façade and deal with every day’s problems.

She shook her head, curling her fingers into a fist before she did something stupid like reaching out to brush the inky strands of hair from his face. «No need to worry, Jones. It’s a happy memory, albeit bittersweet.»

He nodded, understanding what she meant. «Better to have them instead of having nothing at all, isn’t that right?»

The grin that spread on Emma’s face could probably light up the whole house, but what could make the lightbulbs pop was the shy, wide smile Killian was giving her. Emma’s heart fluttered in her chest at the sight; if she didn’t have a crush on him already, she would’ve fallen for him in this instant.

Cheeks aflame, Emma turned to hang the ornament, making sure it wouldn’t fall. What was important to her, was that it was on the tree, not that people could see it; all what mattered was that _she_ knew it was there.

«Come on,» she faced Killian again, holding out her hand, «I’ll help you with the lights. Then, you’ll help me make biscuits.»

She had to bite her tongue not to laugh at Killian’s melodramatic groan, only patting him on the shoulder in a way she wouldn’t have ever dared to before.

_Well, ‘tis the season, isn’t it?_

-/-

«I can’t believe you!»

Emma had to battle another fit of giggles as she kept staring at Killian, focused on the gingerbread house he was building, a pencil tucked behind his ear and the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He was deep in concentration, a sheet of paper and a calculator next to him, demonstrating once again that one should never engage an architect when building gingerbread houses unless they wanted to die laughing at their antics.

Even after she’d become an architect herself, Emma had never used math to build her own gingerbread house; she should’ve known Killian would.

Right now, she was elbows deep into the second batch of dough for cookies, flour in her hair and smeared on her face along with sprinkles, yet she couldn’t stop looking at him. It was the most ridiculous and sweet sight at the same time, especially since Killian, too, had more white hair than black at this point, and it was decorated with colourful jimmies and nonpareils after their not so peaceful argument over style versus quantity when it came to cookies decorating. In the end, the only defeated party had been the poor kitchen.

«Do not mock me, Swan,» he muttered, carefully applying the icing on the roof. He’d even made tiles out of gingerbread. The design was amazing, and even more so was the fact that he was actually building what he’d drawn. Yet, it wasn’t his accomplishment that had Emma’s knees tremble and knocked the wind out of her.

«What did you call me?»

Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the radio, but Killian must’ve heard her because he gulped, and looked away from his project, fingers twisting one of the edible tiles around.

«My apologies, I wasn’t thinking.»

Emma shook her head, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. It had been years since she’d last been called so, and whilst the nickname was old, the warmth spreading inside her was new, albeit not much different from the feeling she had every time she looked at him. «There’s no need to apologize, Killian,» she murmured, his name foreign on her lips, «you just caught me by surprise is all.»

 _It’s not all_ , the voice inside her head protested as if Emma didn’t know that already.

Finally, Killian looked up at her from beneath his eyelashes, taking her breath away - _again_. «Is it weird if I think it fits better than Nolan?» he asked sheepishly. It took Emma all her self control not to ask him where actually was Jones and what he’d done with him.

So she asked him the other burning question she’d carried within herself for years, one she’d never thought she would ask. «Why do you hate me so much?»

Killian paled visibly and a faint snapping sound reached her ears; he’d broken the biscuit he was fidgeting with. Uneasiness marred Killian’s face, the expression marring his gentle features as he looked away from her, gulping audibly. It was as if she’d just thrown him back inside the frozen lake he’d been buried in until today.

«I don’t hate you-»

Emma couldn’t help but snort. «Pft, _please_. At least have the decency not to lie to me.» Something had snapped inside of her, probably the need to understand what was going on in Killian’s mind: how could he be cold one moment and then call her Swan out of the blue, as if he actually _cared_ about her. Good grief, the man was infuriating.

When his eyes snapped back to hers, she was surprised to find a similar fire animate his irises. «I’m not lying to you, Nolan,» he spit out her surname, and after the way he’d called her Swan, she couldn’t help the ache spreading in her chest. «I just wonder how can you act so sweetly when you told your friends I was handsy and only tried to get in your panties so I would add a notch on my bedpost. I keep wondering how David didn’t kill me, though perhaps he doesn’t kno-»

«Wait, wait, wait, wait, _wait_.» Emma rushed to his side, forcing herself to a halt when she was mere inches from him, still unsure whether to be more indignant or angry at him. «What are you talking about?»

«Don’t play games with me, Emma,» he growled, irritation showing on his face, «I’m talking about our college project, the one you didn’t seem so eager to participate in. Before one of our last meetings, I heard you talking to the phone with someone and complaining about me touching you when we both know nothing ever happened.»

Emma blinked at his statement, staring up at him in disbelief. She remembered very well the project, how could she not? It was the most important one between the two she had to submit, worthy extra points that would affect her final grade and therefore her future. Not only that, it had allowed her to spend time with Killian, and things seemed to be going well between the two of them before he started to act cold and distant, unlike-

«Fucking Neal.»

Killian’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. «I beg your pardon?»

 _Fuck, fuck,_ fuck _!_

They were so stupid.

«We are so stupid.»

Killian bristled, opening his mouth to say something he would probably regret later, but Emma beat him to it. «I was talking about Cassidy. He was my partner on the other project and he was a total nuisance, always trying to get me to agree to go on a date with him, and when he saw it wasn’t working, he became… handsy.» She looked down at her flour-coated hands, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. «I was probably complaining to Ruby, she was the only one to know and suggested I went to professor Gold, who dismissed my concerns until I threatened to go to the dean. After that, Neal stopped pestering me.»

In the background, the music was almost deafening in the pregnant silence stretching between them.

«There, you now have the reason why I was complaining about my partner. It doesn’t explain how you never confronted me about what you heard, though. If you were so made about me saying those things then why the hell are you here? Don’t get me wrong, I like having you here and having you around in general, but I just don’t understand you.» Emma snapped her mouth shut, having basically admitted she liked _him_ and Killian was intelligent enough to understand she didn’t mean just as a _friend_ \- since they weren’t even that.

Flustered, Killian brought his hand up to scratch behind his neck. «I assume telling you I’m sorry and that I’ve been an arse won’t be enough. I was a complete, utter idiot, but I couldn’t explain to you what I’ve overheard without admitting that I fancied you, making a complete fool of myself, so I just pretended I didn’t hear any of that and tried to stop thinking about you.»

To say that she was stunned, speechless and completely overwhelmed would mean Emma actually had had the time to sort out the feelings swirling inside her when all she could think of was a tiny, probably yet not quite insignificant part of Killian’s explanation.

«You fancied me?»

His hand stopped the scratching, only to resume it when he cast her a fleeting glance. «Aye, I did.» He bit his lower lip, eyes boring into hers with such intensity Emma felt anchored to the world just by it. Not that she minded.

In fact, her brain was pretty much useless now that she’d heard those words, which was why she didn’t realize her hands had fisted the front of Killian’s sweatshirt and had tugged him down towards her.

His lips were so soft against her own, perfectly balancing the way his scruff scratched her in the most delicious way.

Awkward at first, the kiss turned into a passionate exchange as Emma buried one of her hands in the hair at the nape of Killian’s neck while he circled her waist with his arms, pulling her closer.

Emma couldn’t believe she was finally kissing Killian Jones or that he tasted suspiciously like gingerbread. She smiled against his mouth, relishing in the way he moaned low in his throat when her teeth found his lower lip and tugged at it.

The sensation of Killian’s tongue brushing against hers sent shivers running all through her body and heat coiled in her belly; she didn’t want that moment to end, knowing he would either reject her or kiss her again, and though he _was_ kissing her back, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t resent her.

But Killian surprised her, pressing her against the kitchen island, pulling away only to breathe in deeply before kissing her again, hands holding her hips close to his.

Emma sighed into Killian’s mouth, rising on her tiptoes and letting out a yelp when she was suddenly lift onto the counter.

With a bashful yet devilishly handsome grin, Killian settled between her splayed knees before suddenly turning serious. «It didn’t matter how many times I tried to talk myself out of it, I’ve always fancied you, especially when you weren’t yelling at me.»

Her green eyes lit up, fuelled not by the excitement still running through her veins, but by hope that he wasn’t mad at her. «So you still fancy me?»

It was silly, and Emma wasn’t a silly person by any means, but it was also true that she’d never felt like this for any of the boys she’d dated in the past, so sue her for feeling like a teenager in front of her first, most important crush.

Killian leaned closer, just a breath away from her lips. «Aye, Swan, that I do.»

Emma licked her lips, nodding her head slowly. «Good,» she said, before closing the distance between them and kissing Killian again. And again, and again, and some more, until they both lost count and their clothes along the way.

(Suffice to say, the first tray of cookies had to be thrown away.)

(While Emma might have had the satisfaction of warning Mary Margaret that if she hurt David she would face the blonde’s ire, David was too smug for his own good when his turn to warn Killian came, after the shock of his little sister being in a relationship with one of his best friends wore off, of course.)

(In retaliation, they never actually told David what had happened on the couch he loved so much. He didn’t deserve to have a heart attack.)

(Not at Christmas, at least.)


End file.
